I come from a long line of soldiers dating back to before WWI. My grandfather was an infantry soldier in France in 1917-18 and then re-joined in 1940 serving as a staff Captain in Sydney. Both my uncles served in New Guinea in WWII with one killed at Heaths Plantation outside Lae in 1943, the other also in Borneo 2/28 Bn and then with 3RAR in Korea.
My Dad also served in Borneo in 2/28th Bn and later joined BCOF in Japan and served in 66th Bn.
It was no surprise, when I was asked what Corps I hoped to join when I was a cadet at Portsea in 1972. It was however a terrific surprise and honour when I was informed by the Adjutant, Captain Bob Sayce that I was being posted to 2PIR in Wewak PNG in July 1973.
Unlike many, and especially the then-Captain Peter Stokes (more about him later) and his amazing journal of his patrols in PNG which I read recently, my memory has many gaps. I promised I would write a couple of articles about my various postings to PNG, so here goes.
Initially after a very long trip from Sydney I arrived in Wewak in July 1973, very hot and tired. I met the Adjutant, Captain John Dean the following morning who advised I would soon be meeting the CO, LtCol Laurie Lewis. To this day I remember the meeting and coming out thinking what an immaculately-dressed and professional officer. I did not remain long in Wewak and was sent by sea to Vanimo on a Landing Craft Medium (LCM) to meet my platoon.
On arrival the OC Maj Mick Bindley immediately asked me where my golf clubs were as they had developed a 9-hole golf course which included playing shots over the POL store (what’s a POL store, I thought) before landing your drive on the par 5 on the tennis court which had no fencing. For those that have not been to Vanimo you have missed an idyllic location with the Mess and Haus Win less than 20m from the beach. Hard to believe but I almost became sick of lobster and Red Emperor which were caught by soldiers on a reef just a few metres off the beach. I spent most of my time initially getting to know my platoon and doing local training until I was informed that I was “going to the Border” as one of our platoons was seriously “misplaced” and we were to locate and bring the platoon back to Wutung on the Border. No wonder the guy was lost, the 1:100,000 map had the following printed almost right across the area I was being sent to “no photographic evidence in this area”!!
After numerous days interviewing locals and patrolling what seemed to be forever and being initiated into sleeping in the long haus with other men and animals (can still smell the odour as I first entered) we located the missing platoon and helped them return to Vanimo. My first Border patrol was a success!! I was thankful that I had an excellent Sgt in Wally Enuma (his son Walter featured highly in the Sandline Affair some 24 years later) who only spoke Pidgin and greatly developed my understanding of the language with phrases like “Sir longwe lik lik tasol” meaning, I later found out, was something akin to “not sure Sir just keep going”. Well, that’s what I thought, as we did nothing but climb steep ridges and slide down muddy re-entrants mainly on my bum to the entertainment of 10PL.
On return to Wewak, I attended my only course in 2PIR – the essential 2LT course, in operating the 16mm film projector. Every Wednesday and Sunday nights, outside the officer’s mess, we subbies were rostered to screen films brought in fortnightly by an RAAF (A model) Hercules or a visiting Caribou doing high altitude “famil” flights in the Highlands. The quickest way to extras was to put the wrong lens on the projector, which often occurred after one of the more senior subbies set the operator up, by switching the lens cases.
I was very sorry that I didn’t spend more time in the presence of Laurie Lewis, he was a fine leader and we all prospered under his calm and controlled leadership. I believe we were extremely fortunate that another wonderful officer replaced Laurie, Lt Col PM Jeffery MC. The handover between CO’s was seamless and the Bn continued as before; we were a very happy and close-knit unit. We trained hard, always out somewhere honing our skills in the jungle and occasionally in riot control procedures. The subbies especially, received excellent feedback as virtually all ranks of captain and above had Vietnam experience.
One of the few times operational experience failed was when the Pioneer PL Comd was tasked to destroy a 500lb WWII bomb at Brandi High School across the bay from Moem. After confirming the task with the Ops Officer, the PL Comd detonated the charge not realising or not informed that the bomb was one of a number co-located. The blast flattened several sak-sak classrooms and gave the Pl Comd enough work until the end of his posting. Rather than ripping the young officer, the CO got all the subbies together and reminded them that a “full and detailed reconnaissance” MUST always be conducted!
Our social life was fun. We built or improved our barracks golf course and played a competition every Sunday inviting locals to come and learn the game; expat civvies from town also joined in. The town golf course flooded in the wet season and, as I recall, almost every high tide, so our little course became a major social attraction for the community. Often the future Prime Minister Michael Somare joined our golf days as he resided in Wewak. I was able to get a good set of PGF golf clubs delivered on a C130 from Australia, for the “Chief” who was delighted. Many years later when I was involved in the evacuation of Bougainville, I met the “Chief” again and he thanked me for the clubs once more and still had them.
We subbies also had an arrangement with the TAA Fokker pilots that if they had any European lady passengers on-board, they would do a missed approach and lap Moem Barracks giving us the time to jump in our cars and race to the airport to check out the new arrivals. Occasionally the subbies partied hard and loud. Apparently so loud that on one occasion the CO who lived next door to the Mess walked over and asked the group to come over for dinner as we were keeping his children awake. I think in hindsight Marlena Jeffery was just preventing us from collecting extra duties from the CO – actually it was a great night!!
My next big patrol was from Kundiawa via Mt Wilhelm, across the Ramu over Shaggy Ridge and into Madang. Like Peter Stokes patrol report, I think I lost about 10-15 kilos and at one time had terrible dysentery which required a 2-day hutchie up just north of Mt Wilhelm at a place called Bundi as I was so weak. My most vivid memory of that patrol was the ghost-like surrounds where only bonsai-like trees dripping with moss and thick fog surrounded us each day, and yes it was cold! My platoon did not enjoy that part of the patrol and kept talking about “masali” or ghosts watching us. After a solid few days of scrub bashing through kunai grass – which was tall, stiflingly hot and made us all very itchy – we crossed the Ramu and reached a village (name escapes me) where we had a civic action task of building a water pipe, made of bamboo from the head waters of a steam down to the village and a water tank. When Mike Jeffery arrived to open it about a week later, I was both disappointed and embarrassed when barely a trickle reached the tank although the previous day, we had a strong flow. Sgt Wally and I raced up the steep hill to find water spurting out of about 6-8 cuts in the bamboo. Another “newbie” error, I forgot to advise the village chief to tell the villagers not to cut the bamboo for a drink every time they got thirsty. I should point out here that my relationship with PMJ developed into a life-long friendship – regardless of his rank or appointment he was my friend and mate. In his last few months, I visited him often and talked to him about our times in 2PIR and our love of golf and gardening. The smile never left his face especially when I told him stories in Pidgin.
Up to Vanimo again in 1974 and more patrols along the Border including near Amanab and Green River although details are vague, just lots of walking and often getting reports from villagers of Indonesian soldiers operating on our side of the Border. But given there was no mapping and very few Border markers I was not surprised as the OPM separatist movement was conducting hit-and- run raids which caused retaliation by the Indonesian soldiers as they crossed over in hot pursuit.
I was returning to Moem for some long-forgotten reason in a Porter flown by Harry (Damien) Healy when, east of Aitape, the cargo door on the starboard side came adrift and swung around into the tailplane. I was upfront and the Bn Padre Austin Crapp and, if I recall correctly, Major Lima Dotaona were in the back. Numerous items were sucked out including the Padre’s briefcase. However, when the Padre asked if Harry could check where it had fallen, Harry – trying to stabilise the aircraft and get us on the ground – gave poor old Austin a real mouthful; the Padre took it well!! We landed at a WWII strip near Tadji in thick kunai and as we rolled to a halt, we hit a drain. As we jumped out into the grass Lima twisted his ankle rather badly and again Harry arced up at him “Sir, you have just buggered my perfect landing.” Lima was white with pain and failed to respond that hitting the drain should have cancelled the “perfect landing” Harry was claiming. Lima was a true gentleman.
In June 1975, the CO advised that he had recommended me for early promotion to temporary Captain and to become the adjutant of the Joint Services College in Lae. Leaving my platoon was tough as I had developed a close relationship and they had “skoolim mi gutpela tru”. Lae was a great 6 months posting as I worked directly to an old-style Commandant in Des Mealy, a good man. My highlight was the College’s Independence Day parade which went off without a hitch and the cadets drill that day was something to behold – I was very proud of them.
Now that I was in Lae, I had the opportunity to try and find my uncle’s grave at the War Cemetery. When I visited there was nobody about and no register of graves. It is a beautiful and peaceful place but with more than 3,000 headstones (I think this is the number I was told) the chance of finding my uncle were almost nil. I am not religious, nor do I believe in lucky charms unless I am trying to make a 3m putt for par but as I walked, I had a distinct feeling I was being taken on a certain path. The long and the short of it was that I walked about 100m along a wide avenue with graves in rows on either side and then without thinking I walked in about 6 headstones and looked upon a head stone which read “Cpl JN Wade – a brave scout died leading the way.” It was my uncle!!! As I write this the hairs on my arms and neck are rising – what an amazing piece of luck, or was it something else??
I could not wait to tell my parents especially my Mum that I had found her brother’s grave. It was not long after that they came to Lae and stayed in the OC 183 Recce Sqn (Rowan Monteith) home in Igam Barracks while he and his wife were on leave for about a month. After numerous trips to the cemetery, Dad and I ventured out to near Nadzab searching for where we believed my uncle was killed. At Heaths Plantation, the reported location of his death, we found an amazing number of weapons including grenades (Japanese) and foxholes facing towards where Jack would have approached from. Possibly another piece of luck but Dad and I both thought this was probably where Jack was hit and later died.
About this time, I started taking flying lessons with Ron Beech, a member of 183 Recce Sqn. We flew my Dad to Sattelberg, with me flying. Ron was an excellent pilot and instructor and even when I was unable to maintain a straight line as we powered to take off from Sattelberg his only comment was “I think it’s time to pull back on the yoke, Youngie” with locals ducking as we passed just over their heads at the side of the strip. My father seated in the back said very little but looked a little older when we landed in Lae.
Leaving PNG in early 1976 was a wrench and while I knew it was time to go home and serve with Australian soldiers, PNG would always hold a special place in my being. Little did I know I would return on 2 more postings, once to lead the evacuation out of Bougainville in 1990 and then as DHADS from Dec 1992 to Jan 1996.
Finally, back to Peter Stokes. I marched into 6RAR in January 1976 and when paraded to the CO, Lt Col PA Stokes, I knew things would be different when he told me to get rid of my Captains pips and revert to 2Lt for 6 months. In hindsight “Stoker” did me a favour as I was given command of a platoon for another 12 months and learned to lead Aussie soldiers. However, at the time I was seriously peeved at the demotion. Stoker was a hard man and not easy to warm to but at the end of 1976 he promoted me as his Intelligence Officer (IO). This was a tough gig as the CO had “fired” several previous Acorns. Being in the CP during exercises and setting up innumerable Forming Up Places (FUPs) in the dark, I learned a great deal and respected him. I think he gave me a small amount of leeway as I was an “ex black hander” like him – thanks Niner!
Em tasol.
Garry Young, CSM
May 2022